1. |
the mystical elite
04:54
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I’ve been covering my body in plastic sheets
Seizing the light I bite between anatomy
Like a waterfall as watermelon ecstasy:
This is the ruin that keeps us brief
They say any healing is long and intense
Oh you know I’m still confined by her bed-rest
And whatever prepares the nightmare for its projection
Slices into the essence of what she calls heaven
I want my song to be fronted by Joan of arc
Slice off my hair and kiss my marks
My rage is splitting open again
I’ve been picking at that tender skin of
The mystical elite:
Sickness, paranoia and dreams
Of all my mismanaged schemes
I’m crossed out by the defeat
To move within appealing ways
To make-believe that I am brave
To sever my spine from my brain
I wanna become a human quake
And now I cannot see
What’s always been in front of me
I am paranoid
That I will destroy
Any goodness I have left inside
And I just want to unfold
The nights and visions that leave us cold
But I’ve been keeping my goddamn mouth shut
Cause I will never be upfront (about anything)
You know I’ve been forced into elegance Composing all these hieroglyphs
of affection and regret
What chaos will I tame yet
Like all these words that get stuck between my lips
The cemeteries dissolve into black extremities
And I still just want to go to sleep
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2. |
da Expenditure of NaCl
05:46
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3. |
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She said the mushroom’s her favorite flower
Loves their whispered tales from deep night
She said I always miss their perfect hour
Summoned between my fists of flight
Whatever vanity consumes me
never consumes me when I walk with her
Isn't it a rarity to be aware that Love occurs
Cause there are many like me, lonely and weird
Cutting sentences just to disappear
But it’s a wondrous time to meet this squarely:
The challenges that rise up and prepare me
For the ultimate expression of sacrifice!
Dedicating all of my life
To my great Loves:
The earth and the sun
Every moment squeezed within
Something as simple as a minute
Oh she said that even ideas will be meaningless
If I’m unwilling to greet them with a hungry kiss
So I disappeared
Behind a trail of fears
Because there are things more important than life or death
And I started pretending
That my world was ending
And finally understood that I could be meaningless too
If I dropped out from my flaming, passing moods
She said sometimes people die trying to do great things
Cause its insanity to never want any release
From all of this miscarriage
From pressing our ears close trying to hear it
Eating flesh as the world spins in ritual
We connect by what is not perceptual
She said we’ll decide the best we believe we can
Even if we’re capable of limitless plans
No, the mushroom won’t be a flower in everyone’s eyes
She said sometimes people die
Long before they’re laid inside a grave
So now I hope I wake with tranquility on my tongue
Because I must Love everyone, I Love everyone
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4. |
Action Packed
04:15
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Searching for responsiveness
With volume and dissonance
I am limited and limiting
A symptom of identity
Wondering how to get involved
With Creation—towards the Om
Gotta sing what’s action-packed
Offer up big love and laughs
Perplexed by viewpoint and attitude
The swinging mallets of my moods
Through light and energy
The person is political
I know I can only be me
But I am far too critical
What can we give to the world
But the fullest expressions of ourselves?
We must not only be moved by art
But thrown into momentum through gladdened hearts
Remember my children, be grateful for what you have
Give them Love and make no demands
You’ve got to read poetry at night
If that’s what inspires your eyes
Don’t be oppressive to yourself
There’s plenty of hatred to go around
Don’t be so controlled or controlling
There is a role to play without role-playing
The essence of everything can only be expressed
When you strive for your best
Through an honest art practice
Make poetry out of the invisible
Set the universe to your time scale
You are infinite
Because art confirms the way you’ve spent
Your life
Your Love
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5. |
Euphoric Grave Digger
07:37
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I wish to be a perpetual beginner
Stir nothingness in all my spiraling
Let me burn my knees among the cinders
Smoking up spirit’s rationality
The sun is ripe to shake down secrets
And plant the strangest seeds…
Natural magick hangs me speechless—
Without permissions, without release!
No agency outside of me
I’m thick with needles and canopy
Temptation sleeps dynamically
O materials aren’t materiality
Processing toward limitation in death:
Catastrophe’s a plague to the unprepared
Scrape my teeth on top her breath
A lung’s a lung to scream despair
I see the offer is for the lucky:
The bodies still-electric with life
But no certain hand will stop me
From granting magick fantasized
From running mouths of sacrifice
From digging up our paradise
Replacing bones in diamond skies
For alchemy in laughter cries
No stranger in the strangest sighs
I watch them say goodbye
I am not practical
Working with all this soil
It’s only temporary
No agency belongs to me
Time is not fertility
I’m thick with needles and leaves
And my body is fidgeting
Because I am not me
Eternity mistakes…
The way the blood vessels break
For ease within our days!
For ease under our pains!
The way we use to blame
The past for further flames
Reusable & recycled
These myths are re-riffled...
The past will not last
Walk to the farmers’ market for stress relief
Within the sidewalk I smell the answers:
Honey lavender serenity
When taste buds assume my standards!
I am filled terror and odd visions,
I am the unwanted man
I find, in calm, outside precisions
To make soul of percussion:
Beat on beat I tap it out
Scraping shovels’ heavy whip
Gravel in and gravel down
My life is death when I commit
My life is death when I commit
My life is death when I commit because
I smell their laughter in cement
I tape the rod to uttered rents
My body only is unrelenting, unforgiving
It's a plea to perpetual beginnings
Crack my lips so I can laugh
Euphoric in the diggings
Of a blast, a torrid blast...
(help me out)
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6. |
Serious Toast
05:20
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A mythic instant of condensation:
Jettisoning cereal for serious toast!
Got to apply myself to appreciation
But gratitude seems to grate the most
And I…I would be weeping but there is too much to do
Yes I…I should be screaming but I’ve been over-consumed
I kiss my feet to the earth in a constant drag
Threadbare stockings hypnotized on plaid
Where words are written bruises I cash out for amusement
I’m cased in encasements of my own improvements
I wonder what it is that really keeps me behind
Silicone, syllables—well, it’s all sylla-fine
Everyday objects I place in my pocket
Purchasing stuff even but I don’t even want it
I unbolt cadenzas toward an ornamental passage
Caught in the system of all my bad habits
I wonder what my actions hurt and hinder
When I am blazing in rage and yet helplessly tender…
I know it’s a process of learning how to be
But I hardly have patience for my misery
I don’t meet their requirements
And now nothing is inspiring!
I am impatience with coffee stains and owning too much
My spine is in constant pain but I always keep in touch
It’s the modern me
In the modern field
Without divinity
Without taking pills
I am still unpaid
Hopelessly in debt
But maybe someday
I’ll be able to laugh
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7. |
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i am resonate feelings
from these off-set readings
on the nothingness
that fills my everything, everyday
i am numbness tap-dancing
between the owls' pines and wings
disconnected for all connection:
to hesitate in social sanctions
i am not attentive
i am not descriptive
a decade after i woke up
i'm still tangled in all these guts:
a spine, a web of worlds
spying upon my purchases--
natural speech still rhythms
dialectic into my diabolics
as laughter filled with pigeons
commodifies (a city's) concrete erotics
it's taken from the earth and mixed
into foreign orbits
i am squeezed of death and birth
dissolved in a lake of torrents
i am resonate feelings
from these off-set readings
i am nothingness
filling my everything
isn't it marvelous to exist chained to a whim?
we can souvenir the boulevards with a muck full of hymns
with a muck full of hymns
i can still be attentive
and i work to be more descriptive
but that doesn't mean it'll be of worth
i am the squeezing of everything's death and birth
its death and birth...
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Cake "Alchemy!" Seattle, Washington
Today's gold is cake. Tim Coleman, New Jersey born drummer & performance artist, and Coley Mixan, guitar conjurer, seek to claim the magical process of transformation, creation and combination that is found in both music and the metaphorical gesture of hospitality in shared pastries & cakes. The music of Cake "Alchemy!" seeks to explore the themes of identity, post-humanism and global solidarity. ... more
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